


Buried Morty, Therapist Rick and Cookie Monster

by PsyRick (KoryMisun)



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Assassin Morty, Attempted Murder, Buried Alive, Citadel of Ricks, M/M, No Smut, Sad, Therapy, abandoned morty, buried morty, coffin, cookie morty, therapist rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-16 05:17:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10564401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoryMisun/pseuds/PsyRick
Summary: How a Rick and Two Mortys went from discarded misfits to a family.





	1. Chapter 1

The Citadel thought they had kept tabs on all the bad seeds, Ricks and Mortys alike. Either for their own sense of security or for that stupid fucking game they've been peddling. To get to the point, one Rick who _seemed_ relatively normal, a random guy from a C dimension with no prior record, had done something to his Morty. Something that chilled us all to our bones when we saw the urgent news broadcast.

He had taken Morty in his ship to a barren planet with almost no vegetation, nothing but cinnamon-colored dirt for miles in every direction. Promising the boy would be safe, the Rick told Morty to lie down in a wooden box with a pillow and a flashlight inside. Morty resisted at first, believing it was just a prank, so his _best friend_ pulled out his blaster and told him to take a nap in the box.

Seeing no other choice, the poor Morty did as he was told. The Rick nailed the lid of the box shut, and buried Morty alive, using an old shovel from the trunk of his ship. After an hour or so, he walked away.

The kid's saving grace came in the form of an alien walking his planet's equivalent of a dog. Whether it smelled the human's tears, sweat or whatever, it dug with its front paws until it scratched the solid wooden lid. Morty was too exhausted and thirsty to scream, but he was able to knock. So he did, as hard as he could, and the fourteen-eyed dog heard it. The local authorities were called, and the coffin was dug up in ten minutes.

After losing their collective shits trying to find the Rick responsible, the Council retrieved Buried Morty from the orange-dirt planet. Seeing the Guard Ricks with their rifles made him cry, but he insisted that he would not go back in the box, even if he was shot for disobeying.

He was given two canteens of water and downed them in under a minute (even though he threw up one), and was then much more willing to go with the Guards through their portal. He was hospitalized at the Citadel, and questioned endlessly about his Rick. Morty said he would give him up once he knew where the dickhole went, then refused to discuss the incident further.

~

I wasn't surprised that they called me to set up an appointment with the recently christened Buried Morty. I was given a job by the Council for my special persuasive talents, who wanted me to make sure that lone Ricks or Mortys found a new purpose, so they didn't run amok or draw the galactic fed's attention. Since that would ultimately benefit my Morty and me, I agreed to be the on-call Citadel shrink.

I'm sure it's pretty common knowledge by now, but we can be pretty fucked in the head, so after a few months at the job I was getting buried in credits (sorry for the pun but they could've reached my knees), my Morty was a happy little cookie monster with a sprawling chemistry lab and life was good.

Buried Morty, unbeknownst to us, was going to change all of that in just one session.

\--

At first he had nervously giggled, Rick couldn't be serious right? That box was _obviously_ a coffin for god's sake, why would he ever lie down in it when he was alive? Unfortunately for him, Morty's dead-eyed grandfather wasn't playing a joke on him, as much as he wanted that to be the case.

"G-Get down in there, lie down a-and take a nap, Morty."

The lethal buzzing of Rick's blaster was ever-present in Morty's ears as he climbed into the box and lowered his head onto the pillow. _"Why?_ Wh-Why are you doing this, R-Rick?" he asked desperately before the old man he used to love closed the lid with a thud and locked it.

"Sweet dreams, Morty."

~

He quickly lost track of time in the darkness. Each shovelful of dusty soil landed every ten seconds or so, and Morty lost count after the sixty-first _thud_ because blind panic had set in. Then at long last, Rick walked back to his ship, dragging the shovel behind him. Morty hugged the flashlight to his chest and sobbed brokenly, begging to wake up from his bad dream.

Why would Rick bury and abandon him here, where no one he knew could find him? Did he just hate the teen _that_ much? Did he know something he wasn't supposed to about Rick? The most gnawing question in Morty's mind was, if Rick wanted him to die, why draw it out like this? Through hunger, suffocation and dehydration? Why not just shoot him?

"Wh-What did I ever do to yo-you? Hic!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buried Morty's first week of therapy.

"There there, have some tissues Morty."

The brunette took the box and helped himself. After four Kleenex had been discarded in the trash can, Morty was a bit more calm and able to talk. His eyes darted to the clipboard in the Rick's hand, probably loaded with information about him. "Wh-What else do you needta ask me?"

"That's not important right now, buddy. We're not going in order; if we don't get to them, oh well." Rick adjusted his glasses and crossed one leg over the other, relaxed and in no hurry to write anything else down. "Do you think you'll ever be ready for another Rick after this horrible incident?"

Buried Morty curled up in his chair, arms hugging himself tightly. "I... don't know. Who knows how bad the rest of them are...? No offense."

"None taken, we're all fucked up somehow, I'm sorry to say. Bur that's why I'm here to help everyone out, so shit like this doesn't happen (as much). There are a lotta Ricks who never suffered through marriage, never had kids. They come here to get assessed, so that one day they might be paired with a Morty."

"I-I know, I've seen the brochures and posters," Morty said, less than enthusiastic about the training academy for Rick-less Mortys like himself. "Can't I just go back to my family, my own dimension, and forget this ever happened?"

Rick scratched one of his arms, eyes sliding away from the hope in Morty's. "Well yeahh, but then we'd have to wipe all your memories of this, your Rick, all the times you've been outside your dimension. It would be for your own safety as well as ours." He disliked talking about this, thinking of Mortys at home, dying of loneliness and constant anxiety. "Can I tell ya something a bit personal buddy?"

Morty sniffed and nodded, wiping another tissue across his reddened cheeks. Rick half-smiled.

"I'd _hate_ to lose my Morty. He makes sure I'm outta bed on time, makes me laugh my ass off on a pretty consistent basis, and most importantly he gave me a chance. Even though I'm not big on science, he supports my work and the ways I'm different from the Ricks out there. Wouldn't it be cool to be part of a team like that?"

The scared teen nodded, tempted by the idea of a partnership but still wanting to put his original grandfather behind him. "Y-You've gotten picked on for having this job?" Morty asked, sitting with his feet back on the floor, leaning forward to hear his shrink's response.

"Pssh, at first, yeah, until I started prescribing their Prozac. Now they begrudgingly accept me. They'll bully you till you make them see how useful you really are to 'em."

"I don't think I'll ever be useful," admitted Morty, his head bowing low. "Maybe it's why Rick did what... the thing he did."

Rick leaned forward in his chair and tilted the boy's head up. "There's no delicate way to put this, he's a psycho, Morty. What happened to you could've happened to Summer, or your parents. You trusted him 'cause you thought you _could,_ and there is nothing wrong with that."

Ignoring the timer in his watch signalling the end of the session, he took Morty's tissue box and carefully used one to wipe up his fresh tears. "Wanna talk more tomorrow?"

"Y-Yeah, if you're not busy," sniffed Morty, attempting a smile. It was as good a start as any in Rick's opinion.

"Sounds good. Mind if my Morty's here too? He doesn't like being alone at the house very much."

"S-Sure, no problem."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cookie is the real Rick in the family.

"So... you make cookie _weapons?"_

 

Rick had left the apartment to grab his paycheck and ingredients for dinner, so his two Mortys were left at home.

 

"Brilliant, right? No one's gonna suspect a cookie, at least not in time to escape." Cookie was taller than Buried Morty by almost three inches, his triumphant smirk was almost unsettling.

 

"B-Brilliant is _one_ of the words I'd use," Buried said, laughing uneasily. His companion tried not to roll his eyes.

 

"Hey, it's a lot safer and effective than my _last_ line of work, and they're probably the healthiest thing on this hunk of rock."

 

"I wasn't questioning that..." Buried started to say, before the hard look in the older boy's eyes silenced him. Cookie tossed his messy eggbeater into his mixing bowl and put flour-covered hands on his hips. It was time to get real with this gullible, doormat Morty.

 

"Well, I think it's time you _started_ to question things. You probably trust my Rick already, right? That's your big problem. When it comes to Ricks you have to be on high alert at all times. They'll hurt you just because they're _bored_. You can't take a Rick's hand and walk off into the sunset, you'll end up dead!"

 

"I've very well aware of that _now,"_ Buried snapped, wanting to flip the precious cookie batter onto the floor, just to see the look on the assassin's face. "You're telling me to man up, look out for number one, blah blah _blah._ I'll put my trust in whoever I want, because unlike everybody _else_ here I still believe that good people exist. And I deserve to be loved by good people!"

 

Cookie stood still, swallowing down every sarcastic remark and urge to slow clap when Buried was done with his little speech. "Well, good luck with that. You'll need it."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cookie and Buried attempt to work together while Rick relaxes. (Being a shrink is effing hard.)

"Mmm, something smells smart in here." Rick hung up his long white coat and gave Cookie a kiss on the cheek. He made eye contact with Buried as if to ask permission, before ruffling his messy short hair. The newest addition tried to ignore the heat building up in his cheeks.

"He-Hi, Rick."

"Hey Morty. What do we want tonight? Pasta, roast beef... other?"

"We could chop the beef up and use it in lasagna," Cookie suggested, after all his motto was 'Why pick and choose? Throw it all in!' The couple turned to hear from Buried, who wasn't used to being asked for his opinion.

"W-Well, uh, that sounds delicious, let's do it."

~

"Okay! So Rick'll eat anything except corn which leaves us a lot of options. What do you _not_ want?" Cookie nudged Buried with his elbow, his new lab assistant. Rick had been told to wash up and relax before dinner time, leaving them unsupervised again.

"I don't like mixing sweet with savory very much, but I'll eat anything."

"Of course you will." Cookie's smile was mocking at best and Buried wanted to slap it off his face. He wouldn't though, because Rick would be upset if he did. Morty would not stoop to violence. Wouldn't, couldn't... urrgh, but Cookie was such a _dick!_ Now the nickname _Cookie Monster_ made perfect sense.

"Are you even _listening?"_ The taller Morty snapped his fingers in front of Buried Morty's face. "Dude, you're turning purple." Cookie felt his forehead, brushing stray curls out of the way. "You're not feverish; do you want some water?"

"I-I'm okay, stop worrying so much Mom!" The room went silent, except for the saucepan next to them which was on the verge of bubbling over.

Cookie looked insulted for only a second before realizing that before he was Buried, Morty had a family, probably with a mom, dad and sister.

"You miss them, huh?" he murmured, continuing to tousle and play with Buried's hair. "Don't worry, your Rick will be caught and you'll be safe to go home... if you want."

Buried Morty saw that as a seal of approval from the older boy, that he was welcome to stay here indefinitely if he had no other options. "Th-Thanks, Cookie!" he beamed, hugging the assassin around his waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special mention to Amelia for cheering me up and giving me faith in RP again.  
> PS. I'm still not used to having an html that paragraphs my lines for me, but I fixed the spacing and it doesn't look so gross now. -thumbs up!-


End file.
